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The Complete Poetical Works of Robert Buchanan

In Two Volumes. With a Portrait
Buchanan, Robert Williams (1841-1901)

collapse sectionI. 
VOL. I.
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Early Poems.
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Undertones.
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Idyls and Legends of Inverburn.
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London Poems.
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Miscellaneous Poems.
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North Coast, and other Poems.
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Sonnets WRITTEN BY LOCH CORUISK, ISLE OF SKYE.
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CORUISKEN SONNETS.
 I. 
I. Lord, is it Thou?
 II. 
II. We are Fatherless.
 III. 
III. We are Children.
 IV. 
IV. When we are all Asleep.
 V. 
V. But the Hills will bear Witness.
 VI. 
VI. Desolate!
 VII. 
VII. Lord, art Thou here?
 VIII. 
VIII. God is Beautiful.
 IX. 
IX. The Motion of the Mists.
 X. 
X. Coruisk.
 XI. 
XI. But Whither?
 XII. 
XII. God is Pitiless.
 XIII. 
XIII. Yea, Pitiless.
 XIV. 
XIV. Could God be Judged.
 XV. 
XV. The Hills on their Thrones.
 XVI. 
XVI. King Blaabhein.
 XVII. 
XVII. Blaabhein in the Mists.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. The Fiery Birth of the Hills.
 XIX. 
XIX. The Changeless Hills.
 XX. 
XX. O Mountain Peak of a God.
 XXI. 
XXI. God the Image.
 XXII. 
XXII. The Footprints.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. We are Deathless.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. A Voice in the Whirlwind.
 XXV. 
XXV. Cry of the Little Brook.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. The Happy Hearts of Earth.
 XXVII. 
XXVII. Father, forgive Thy Child.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII. God's Loneliness.
 XXIX. 
XXIX. The Cup of Tears.
 XXX. 
XXX. The Light of the World.
 XXXI. 
XXXI. Earth's Eldest Born.
 XXXII. 
XXXII. What Spirit Cometh?
 XXXIII. 
XXXIII. Stay, O Spirit!
 XXXIV. 
XXXIV. Quiet Waters.
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The Book of Orm.
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Political Mystics.
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Songs of the Terrible Year.
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Saint Abe and his Seven Wives.
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VOL. II.

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XX. O Mountain Peak of a God.

Father, if Thou imperturbable art,
Passive as these, lords of a lonely land—
If, having laboured, Thou must sit apart—
If having once open'd the Void, and planned
This tragedy, Thou must impassive stand
Spectator of the scenic flow of things,
Then I—a drop of dew, a grain of sand—
Pity Thy lot, poor palsied King of Kings.
Better to fail and fail, to shriek and shriek,
Better to break, like any Wave, and go,—
Impotent godhead, let Thy slave be weak!—
Yea, do not freeze my Soul, but let it flow—
Oh, wherefore call to Thee, a mountain Peak
Impassive, beautiful, serene with snow?
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